Not A Happy Ending
by Michelle Birkby
Summary: They always knew it wouldn't end happily. They just didn't expect it to end so soon. Warning for character death, and extreme angst. Complete
1. The Ending

"Where is he?"

"In the infirmary. With Sam." Daniel said. It was dark in Daniel's lab. It was always was, these days.

"How long has been there?" Major Davis asked, stepping warily into the room. He'd onCe counted Daniel amongst his very small circle of friends, but lately, Daniel seemed unreachable.

"Since he took her there." Daniel said, his voice still in a monotone. He was picking up artefacts from his desk, turning them over in his hand, staring at the precious, fragile objects unseeingly. "Teal'c's gone to find her father."

"Well, that's good. Maybe Jacob can help?" Paul said, sudden hope in his face. Daniel turned to look at him, blankly.

"Sam's dead, Paul. Jacob can't do a thing to change that."

Paul shrank back from him. Daniel's anger was cold, and harsh.

"Daniel, I hate to ask, but I need to know..."

"The naquadah generator. She and Jack were in her lab, and it started to overload. Jack and her left, and he was bringing down the doors to shield the base from the blast, when she suddenly said she knew how to switch it off." Daniel's voice was flat, emotionless, and as he talked, he continued to pick up the little statues on the desk. "She went back inside the room, and closed the door. Jack pounded on it, begged her to come out, but she only said she knew how to stop it, and we needed the naquadah generator. Then there was an explosion. We opened the door and she was lying on the floor." Daniel put the statue down, and gazed at the wall opposite him. "She was untouched. She looked so peaceful. We thought she'd survived. But Jack couldn't wake her up. He carried her to the infirmary. It's the concussion wave, you see." He said, turning to Paul. "It rips you apart inside, but leaves your outer body untouched."

"I'm sorry." Paul said, stepping forward.

"There was no need for her to do that. No need for her to die like that. No need for her to go into that room."

"You did, once."

"That's different. That was me. This...this was Sam." Daniel said, trying to explain. He looked up, and caught Paul's eye.

"You've been crying." Daniel said.

"You haven't." Paul said, surprised. The Daniel he'd known once, before his own death, had been passionate and sensitive, and he'd shown his every reaction, his every mood. Now, it seemed like Daniel was building up walls around his every emotion, hiding every feeling. Paul no longer knew what Daniel thought and felt.

"I haven't cried since the day Janet died." Daniel told him. "I miss her."

"I know." Paul told him.

"But today, I'm glad she's dead. She wouldn't have coped with this. Not with Sam dying." Daniel still didn't look at Paul, and he turned back, to the door.

"Umm, I need to tell her fiancé, but the address we have for him is out of date. Do you happen to know..."

"He bought a new house, in Colorado. Jack knows the address."

"Thanks."

"Paul." Paul turned in the doorway, and faced Daniel. "You loved her, didn't you?"

"Everyone did." Paul said, trying to swallow the tears rising in his throat.

"But you loved her more." Daniel insisted.

"Yeah. But I knew...she and General O'Neill..." Davis stammered.

"Yes. She and General O'Neill." Daniel said, picking up a tiny little statue, rose coloured, covered in delicate filigree work. Paul turned back to the door, then heard a smash. He turned around.

Daniel had thrown the statue against the wall. He stood there, hands in pockets, face curiously blank, watching the tiny little rose pieces fall from the wall.


	2. By Her Side

Jack stood at the foot of the bed, hands deep in pockets, staring at the woman lying in front of him. She still looked so beautiful. So alive. He wasn't sure if this was worse, or better than if she had been marked. At least, if she'd bled, or burnt, he'd have a reminder that she was gone. Like this, she just looked like she was sleeping.

He'd done this so many times before. Sat by her bed, watching her sleep, waiting for her to wake up. For hours, sometimes. Just watching her peaceful face come back to life, listening to the monitors register her heartbeat. Just like he was doing now.

Except, she wasn't going to wake up this time.

He glanced at the clock. Three hours ago they'd been in her lab. He'd stolen coffee for her from Daniel's lab, and ordered her to stop work for a moment, and she had. He'd been telling her the story of the theft, making it sound like a top secret mission, and she'd been laughing. He'd enjoyed it, the glow of her face, the sound of her giggle. Somewhere inside him, he'd been thinking 'I bet Pete doesn't make her laugh like this'. Somewhere inside of him there'd still been hope. He'd remembered her slightly absent, sad expression when she'd come in that morning, and how that had gone now, and he'd thought 'there's still a chance'. He'd been happy, and she had been too, and it was another perfect moment with her to remember, and treasure, and build dreams on.

Ten minutes later, she was dead.

It was his fault. Once he started to shut the blast doors, he should have kept an eye on her, knowing she would try to get back in there to save her precious work. He should have been quicker to grab her as she slipped in through the gap. He should have found the right words to order her out of there. He should have kept silent, not disturbed her concentration. He should have ripped the door open, found a way to override the lock she'd activated inside. He should have been in there with her.

He should have saved her. That had been his only cause, the last few years. For everything. Saving her. Protecting her.

He'd failed.

Every time she'd gone on a mission without him, he'd been slightly prepared for this to happen. He'd dreaded it, and ignored the possibility, and put his faith in Teal'c and Daniel to protect her, but he partly expected her to come back dead. But here, on base, under his eye, under his protection, he never expected her to come to any harm.

Sam's death was his fault.

Davis stood in the doorway of the infirmary. He dared not go in. All he saw, at first, was Sam, lying on the bed. She still looked alive. He watched her a second, aware this was the last time he'd ever see her.

Then he saw Jack, standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at Sam. His hands were rammed in his pockets, and he didn't move. The light on his face made him look drawn and old.

'He's dying.' Davis suddenly thought. Jack turned to face him, and Davis stammered,

"I'm sorry...I need Shanahan's address."

Jack nodded.

"I'll tell him." He said. Davis winced.

"No, Sir, you don't have to..."

"I do." Jack said. "It's my job, she was under my command, I was there, a hundred good reasons why I should tell him, so I will, ok? Just give me a minute."

Davis nodded, and stepped away from the doorway, leaving Jack alone.

Jack went to the side of the bed, to the stool Janet had always placed there for him when Sam was here, and that he'd had to ask Brightman for. He reached out, hesitating for a second, then ran his fingers through the bright hair.

"I love you." He said softly. Then he bent down and kissed her, once, on the forehead. Then he left, to tell the man who's ring she wore that she was gone.


	3. The Other Man

He drove there, carefully, paying close attention to every stop sign, every speed limit. If he concentrated on the road, he could just about push everything else to the back of his mind. He hadn't changed into his dress uniform, as he was supposed to. He still remembered the day his father had died, and how the minute his mother had seen the General walking up her path in full dress uniform, she'd known her husband was dead, and she'd screamed, just once, before going down to open the door. He didn't want Pete to guess, so he'd changed into civilian clothes, to make it seem like a social call.

Except, of course, Sam's death was written all over his face and imprinted on his soul.

Pete was in the front garden, tugging at some weeds. It was autumn, and the garden was beginning to die, although the sun was bright. He grinned, and waved when he saw Jack, and continued to pull at the weeds. Jack walked up the path to him, sunglasses on.

"Hey, what are you doing here...it's Sam." Pete said suddenly, his smile fading.

"We'd better go inside." Jack told him. They went indoors, Pete first, Jack following, trying to frame the words. He knew Pete would be broken, would hurt, and cry, and scream, and he wanted to spare him as much as pain as possible. But still, there was a tiny part inside of him that hated this man for taking Sam away, for robbing Jack of the last few months of her life.

"I know that face." Pete said, turning to face him as soon as they got indoors. "I've done the bad news run myself. How bad is she?". His voice was calm, but his hand was gripping the edge of a table so hard his knuckles were white. Jack took his glasses off.

"I'm sorry." He said, and the words sounded so trite for an emotion that was swamping him. "It's the worst possible news."

"She's dead?" Pete said, his face crumpling. His knees buckled, and he sat down heavily on the chair behind him. "How?"

"I can't tell you. It's classified." Jack said, wincing at the harshness of the words. "But I can tell you she died saving lives. In fact her whole career was about saving lives. She did more for this world, and other worlds than anyone can ever know, and I was proud to serve with her." The General said.

"Sam." Pete said, and the teas were beginning to flow down his face. "We argued, this morning, we didn't make up before she left, she thought...I didn't tell her I love her. It was the first morning since we moved in together that I didn't tell her I love her."

'I never told her' Jack thought, savagely, but only said, "She knew. She wore your ring...not on her finger, that was against regulations, but on a chain, round her neck. I bought it back for you." He put the ring, still on it's chain, on the table in front of Pete. He picked it up, slowly.

"Was it painful? Her death?"

"No, it was fast, and painless." Jack told him, but he was thinking 'But for ten minutes she fought and struggled to survive, and I stood outside the door and begged her to come out, and I would have told her I loved her if it would have made her come out, and she must have known, at that very last moment, that she'd failed, and she was going to die, and my God, those last seconds cam be an eternity, when you realise you have no time left.'

"That's what we always say, isn't it?" Pete said, "When we tell them, the widows and orphans. It was fast and painless. But there would have been a moment, wouldn't there, when she knew?"

Jack said nothing, but swallowed convulsively.

"Thanks, for coming here, and telling me. I know that can't have been easy." Pete said, standing up. "Especially not for you." He told Jack, then he turned away. "I have to call Mark."

Jack left a moment later. He got into his truck and drove to a park he knew, where he used to daydream that if he ever proposed, this would be the place. The watery autumn sunshine was beginning to fade now, but he found the park, and his spot by the lake. The last of the sunlight reflected off the water, onto the red and brown trees, and the dying grass. Jack got out of his truck, and sat down, the fallen laves rustling beneath him. He stared out at the lake a moment. Then a crushing sob ripped through his body. Another and another, sobbing, tearing the sorrow out of himself, grasping his hair as if the physical pain could get rid of the emotional pain, keening into the wind, her name, over and over 'Sam, Sam,', crying, screaming, for hours, at the lake where he would have taken her one day, and asked her to marry him.


	4. All For Love

He stayed long enough for the memorial ceremony. He'd given a speech, on the ramp, where she had given one barely a year before. He'd put a wreath on the event horizon that she had loved to step through. He'd made a speech, and praised her brilliance, and her tenacity, and her courage and her bravery and her humour and her sense of honour, and although he didn't once mention it, he knew that every man and woman in the room knew that he loved her. Daniel and Teal'c had worn black suits, and stood either side of him. Teal'c had cried silently, unmoving, huge tears running down his face. He made no move to wipe them away. Daniel hadn't cried. Daniel didn't do much of anything any more.

He stayed to see her name inscribed on the names of the fallen plaque. It was a long, wooden plaque, with names inscribed carefully in gold. It had got bigger, over the years, so now it was almost six feet long. The first name on it was Charles Kawalsky. The last name on it was Colonel Samantha Carter, right below Doctor Janet Frasier. Jack thought she would have liked that. He would have mentioned that to Daniel, but Daniel only left his lab to go on increasingly dangerous missions these days, and they barely talked any more. And then he stayed just a little while longer, to see Teal'c go to join Ishta and the rebel Jaffa.

Until, one day, he opened the door of Daniel's lab.

"I've resigned." He announced, without preamble. Daniel barely moved.

"And what will you do now?" Daniel asked. Jack shrugged.

"Go to the cabin, I guess, fish a little."

"It's nearly winter. It'll be freezing."

"I'll burn a fire."

"You'll forget to feed the fire. You'll forget to feed yourself. And one day, when it's really cold, you'll forget to breathe. You're going to die, aren't you, Jack?"

"I've been dead for ages now." Jack sighed, and he looked it. His face was as grey as his hair. He barely ate any more, and he'd lost so much weight, his clothes hung off him.

"You think this is what she have wanted?" Daniel asked, trying one last time to bring his friend back.

"No. But without her, it's all pointless."

"I never put you down for the love is everything type, Jack." Daniel told him, a little bitter, and a little envious.

"Nope, neither would I. But it turns out I am, for her, anyway. Must have learnt a few things off you, Danny." He said, using the affectionate diminutive he hadn't used for years.

"Then you should learn not do this."

"Hey, you had your death. Let me have mine in peace." Jack joked. Daniel started to protest, but Jack hugged him, quickly.

"I just need some time, Daniel. Time to think about her. Please."

Daniel nodded, and tried to speak, but found, to his surprise, he was crying.

"I may come back, you never know. Never give up." Jack said, trying to keep the tone light.

"You have." Daniel said. "Jack, you are still needed...."

"No, not any more." Jack said, stepping back from the hug, but keeping his hands on Daniel's arms. "My work here is done. Truthfully, all that kept here was Sam. And you...you haven't needed me for a long time, Space Monkey." Jack ruffled his hair, father to son, then stepped back. "I never understood, to be honest, why you wanted to be taken by a Gou'ald after Sha're was taken. I thought it was better to go on living, whatever happened. But I get it now. I get how one person can be your whole life."

"Jack, I did go on living." Daniel said, desperately.

"Why? Why did you?"

"Sam talked me into it." Daniel admitted. "She was just so full of life, and hope, and when she was around...it all seemed more worthwhile, somehow."

"There, you do understand." Jack threw his bag over his shoulder. He glanced at the clock. It had been a year. Exactly a year to the moment that he had last seen Sam alive. "See you, Daniel." He said, and left.


	5. Four Together

Davis bought him the news six months later. Daniel was packing up in his lab for another mission. He'd volunteered for every mission he could get lately. Now he no longer had a team of his own, he could go wherever he was needed. And the more dangerous a mission was, the more eagerly he accepted. He'd become scarred, a long white mark across his face, and harder, his muscles defined, shaped by constant work. And his eyes, behind his glasses, were guarded, and cold. The warm, loving, tolerant Danny had long gone.

Davis stopped by the lab.

"Any news on Teal'c?" Daniel asked, without looking up, stuffing items into his back pack.

"Nothing." Paul admitted. "Neither he nor Ishta have been seen this they entered Ba'al's territory three weeks ago."

"Then they're dead." Daniel told him. "Or as good as."

Paul winced, then, told him

"That wasn't what I came to tell you."

Daniel stopped packing, and looked up. Paul had changed too. Not just his promotion. His eyes were shadowed, always sorrowful these days, and he was tense.

"They found him." Daniel said, quietly. Paul nodded.

"In his cabin. Like you said. Frozen to death. He had Sam's dog-tags in his hand." Paul said, miserably. Daniel nodded.

"Sounds like him. Stubborn bastard." Daniel remarked, then went back to stuffing his back pack. He picked up his body armour.

"There's a rumour that there's super soldiers out there, so make sure you've got the ceramic plates in that." Paul said, unhappily, then turned to leave.

"Paul." Daniel said. Davis turned back. "None of this is your fault. None of it. The four of us, it was always all of us or none of us. It had to end like this."

"They carried on when you died." Paul said bitterly.

"But I didn't really die." Daniel said, gently, smiling a little, though it was without mirth. "Look, I'm just saying, do not blame yourself. I know you will, because it's in your nature, but don't."

Paul nodded, and left. Daniel reached out to a picture on his desk. It had been taken two years ago, by a passing stranger Janet had grabbed. The four of them, in a park, all side by side, but not alone. Daniel had his arm draped over Janet, and Cassie stood in between Sam and Jack. Teal'c stood at the end, grinning, for no good reason, with one of his ridiculous hats. They all looked so happy, so young, and alive.

Within six months of the picture, Janet was dead. Then Sam, then Jack, and now probably Teal'c. Daniel looked round his desk. Pictures of his parents, of Sha're, of Janet, and Sam. He was surrounded by pictures of the dead.

He carefully removed the picture of them in the park from it's frame, and put it in his breast pocket, next to his heart. Then, he remembered what Paul had said about the super soldiers. Slowly, deliberately, Daniel removed the protective ceramic plates that Sam had designed, from his suit.

Then he left, to join his friends.

THE END


End file.
